A World Where Bliss Would Find Them
by Ending-Daley
Summary: He stared, tears blurring his vision, at the tiny red faced little creature in his arms. His baby. His child. His son.


_This is me being petulant and pretending the things that are happening aren't happening. Don't touch me._

* * *

The world had stopped.

His heart skipped a beat.

His breath held captive in his chest.

His past was a colourful one filled with lies, and deceit. But now, with his little beach house, his dogs and his wife Will Graham breathed easy. There was not a single hitch in his breath, until now. He couldn't breathe, not from fear, but from the sheer amazement that was drumming in his chest.

He stood dumbstruck, unsure of his place in the hectic room outside of standing beside his wife's side, scrubs covering his civilian clothes. It was a scene out of a movie, he the actor who'd forgotten his doctor-like lines. Everyone there knew their place, knew their timing and knew exactly what they had to do. He on the other hand was not so fortunate.

Alana's hand pushed at his hip, forcing a stumbled half step towards the huddle of nurses who were busy weighing and measuring and making sure everything was alright. He stood, almost on tiptoes to sneak a peek over their heads and past their shoulders.

It was quiet.

Earmuffs covered their ears, muffling the clacking machines and thudding footsteps. The little noises in the room didn't matter; they were listening for one noise in particular. It was supposed to be a loud, earth shattering, life changing scream. They strained their ears and yet they could not hear it.

He could practically hear his wife's worry, her mind ticking loudly the sound almost resonating through the room. She had to stop thinking. His fingers squeezed her palm, refusing to let her go even as she pushed at him with all her might.

The doctor was talking, his words simple vibrations. It hummed in Will's ears joining the hum in his chest where Alana's worry met his. They had suffered enough in their lives at the hand of Hannibal Lecter, they did not need to suffer at the hands of God himself as well. It felt like bees were trapped in his chest, pulsating his anxiety as they waited ever so silently.

The silence droned on. He felt as though his body was tearing in two. He needed to check on the quiet creature to settle his mind, but he could not bear the thought to leave his wife's side. The silence ticked by, the nurses moved, the doctor kept his head down, and suddenly, in their slow motion world the speed picked up again.

Tangled in blue his arms flailed but his voice remained silent. Air filled the room, sudden relief washing over the adults like a tidal wave on a quiet beach. Will's hand squeezed hers tightly for a second before relaxing complete. There was nothing to worry about, no fears in the world.

"Congratulations!" The doctor beamed, at the quiet adults his voice the loudest in the room. The adults stared at him, tired and worth out, one sagged with relief while the other remained terrified, stiff like a board. "Would you like to hold him, Dad?" He asked Will, proud smile still in place as though the doctor himself had worked the hard yards. He was not the one who paced the beach at night worried about the future of his child, about the ramifications of his life that would befall and innocent creature. A child never asked for a damaged father or a mother who could never seem to escape the rational therapist of her mind. But yet here they were, here he was. He had worked the mental daemons, his wife the physical. The doctor himself had only held a very small part.

Will stared at him, his eyes as wide as a Tawny Frog Mouth. He was alarmed, caught off guard and yet he had no singular reason to feel either of those emotions. He had eight months to prepare for the shock reality of their having a child. Only now it was incredibly real. With dry paper caught in his throat Will swallowed hard before nodding. Reluctantly he let go of Alana's hand, the gentle touch of her fingers finding purchase against his leg, her trace never leaving him as he intensely listened to the doctor's instructions.

He knew it was a hackneyed thought to think his child light as a delicate feather. But with the warm, newborn baby placed in the crook of his arm, Will Graham couldn't think of anything outside of the corny clichéd phrases. He stared, tears blurring his vision, at the tiny red faced little creature in his arms. His baby. His child. His son.

The baby squirmed, his eyes still shut but somehow, as if he was already wise beyond any years he knew the man holding him wasn't what he wanted. He squawked, one loud shrill noise and then stopped, only continuing to squirm. Will's head shot up, his eyes wide again as he stared at the doctor, panicked. The man, who'd been with them since Alana's first appointment chuckled softly as he gently took the baby from his father and lowered him to Alana's flushed chest.

She looked like she had been for a run, one far too long and far too hard. Her cheeks were the colour of beets, her hair was stuck to her head and she still hadn't managed to catch her breath. Beyond all that, laying on the very top surface and shining vulnerable in her eyes was an admiration only a mother could hold for her child.

A nurse was showing her how to rub on the baby's cheek, encouraging him to latch onto her breast. The boy latched on easily, causing his mother to shriek slightly at the unexpected feeling. The doctor laughed fondly, in awe of first time parents and their new experiences. Briskly he gave Will a firm clap on the shoulder before bidding the new parents congratulations again and quietly slipping out the door.

Alana continued to stroke the little boy's plump cheek as he suckled and whined on her breast. She couldn't stop smiling at the little creature, all curled up and barely the length of her forearm. "Oliver." She whispered softly, her voice as gentle as the silent night's breeze. Will climbed up onto the bed beside her; his arm curving around her shoulder's to cup their baby's head.

"Oliver?" He repeated just as softly, his eyes never moving from their brand new addition. Oliver was certainly not a name that had graced any of their lists in eight months. Alana nodded softly, her head falling tiredly to his shoulder.

"Reece." She added on a quiet breathe that did not need explanation. Will knew enough to know Alana wanted to name their child boy or girl after her brother, it only made sense. "Oliver Reece Graham." She murmured her finger stroking back and forth over soft, subtle baby skin hypnotising her into a world of warmth and comfort, a world where bliss was the only thing that would find them.


End file.
